


Distraction

by moboe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Crack, Destiel - Freeform, Explicit Language, M/M, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 04:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moboe/pseuds/moboe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is preparing Sam's dinner when Cas comes over and distracts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

It was around 6 pm when Castiel Novak showed up on Dean’s doorstep, a mischievous grin set in his lips and his hands behind his back. Dean opened the door confusedly, having just made Sammy’s dinner, and quirked and eyebrow in his friend’s direction. 

“Cas? What’re you doing here?”

Cas rolled his eyes and brought something from behind his back showing it to Dean. Now, instead of looking mischievous, he looked moderately sheepish. Dean took in the image of what Cas was holding, gaping at the sight of it. “Dude,” Dean hissed, eyes flicking from the object in Cas’ hands to his face and back again. “Where did you get that?”

Cas shrugged, a small grin overtaking his features. “Found it in Gabe’s room, and I know how much you love it, so I thought I’d come over and we could play with it.” Cas’ voice had gone gruffer than usual, huskiness playing at his tone, and Dean shivered. What right did Cas have to come over here, disrupt Dean from making his baby brother supper, only to distract him with… _that?_

Oh. That was right. He had every right to do it, nothing could stop him, and if Dean was being honest, he really didn’t want to.

“Well,” Dean choked out elegantly, his mouth gone dry. “Come in, then. And take that to the basement.”

Castiel nodded and took a step inside, brushing past Dean and turning to make his way down the stairs to the basement. Meanwhile, Sam called from the kitchen, asking, “Who was that?”

Dean dazedly answered, “No one,” and walked into the kitchen to make sure Sam ate all of his dinner. As a 16-year-old, he had to make sure his 12-year-old brother did what he was supposed to. It was Dean’s job to take care of Sam while his father worked (usually 24-hour shifts) at the fire station.

For now, Cas would have to wait.

 

*

 

“Oh my God,” Dean groaned. “Oh my _God._ ”

Dean and Castiel were down in the basement, playing their seventeenth round of Mario Kart (for GameCube). “What the fuck?!” Dean yelled, exasperated. “Are you even trying?”

“Dean, I never said I was good.”

“But you never said you sucked horse shit at it, either!” Dean looked over to Cas’ side of the screen, narrowing his eyes at it. “ _Are you even fucking trying?_ ”

“I think we’ve established this.”

“Are you—why are you not using your item? That’s a fucking _red shell._ ”

Castiel stifled his laughter with his hand, which only seemingly made Dean angrier. 

“Why are you taking your hands off the controller?! What is wrong with you?”

A guffaw escaped through the spaces between Cas’ fingers, and then he was laughing hysterically, unable to stop. Luigi (who Castiel had chosen as his character) was completely still on the screen. With Castiel’s back pressed up against the couch, and his bottom hovering just over the ground, Dean pushed himself from his spot on the couch, and smacked Castiel on the back of the head.

“Are you even seeing this, Cas? Look! You’re losing to goddamned Yoshi! Who _does_ that?!”

Cas fell over, his body making a dull thud on the ground and his laughs becoming nothing but quiet squeaks of pain. “Dean,” he gasped. “Stop!”

“The fuck I will! Do you _see_ this? I’m _passing_ you! I was already in fucking first place, but now I get the pleasure of passing your ugly ass again! _What the fuck!_ ”

Castiel couldn’t breathe.

“Bye!” Dean shouted as Toad zoomed past Luigi. 

“Dean,” Cas wheezed. “Please,” he begged.

“Well, it’s too late now, Cas. The race is fucking _over._ And the only way you got over the finish line was because Bowser crashed into you and knocked you over it!”

Cas rolled over onto his back and clutched his sides, breathing in deeply. “Dean,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Oh my God.”

“ _You’re_ exasperated?” Dean whisper-shouted. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Come here,” Cas demanded suddenly, his ribs aching. Dean looked over the couch on to the floor and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. 

“Why?”

Cas raised one of his eyebrows in turn, a new challenge glinting in his eyes. “Because I asked you to. Is that suddenly not enough?”

Dean pursed his lips contemplatively and then rolled off the couch, landing right above Cas, boxing him in with his arms and his knees on either side of Cas’ hips. “This good enough, your royal highness?”

Cas rolled his eyes and then rolled them both over, holding Dean down with a hand pressed into the middle of his chest. “Not quite.” He leaned down until there was only a miniscule amount of space in between their lips, and then, just as Dean’s heart rate was speeding up, laughed and rolled off. “Want to play another round?”

Dean groaned loudly in frustration, throwing his forearm over his eyes. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he whispered, and then, louder, raising his arm from his face, “Why? So I can beat your ass again?”

Cas rolled over once more, his face mere inches from Dean’s. “No,” he murmured. “So I can beat yours.” He was quiet for a moment, and then grinned. “If you beat me again, though, I might reward you.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “With what?”

The light-eyed boy just grinned. “Win and find out, Winchester.” 

Dean had a pretty good idea of what he would win, and so as efficiently as he could, he pushed Cas off of him, pushed himself off the floor, and swiped up his game controller. “You’re going down,” he growled, grinning viciously at Castiel. 

Castiel only returned the smile, eyes raking up and down Dean’s body before murmuring, “Maybe. Depends on if you win or I do.”

Something lodged in Dean’s throat at that and he began to cough, choking on his own saliva, and, ultimately, missed the start of the race. 

Cas cackled.


End file.
